‘I really don’t know what you mean, Toby. Now it’s late and I do think you should go to bed.’ Hoping she sounded a sufficiently cruel stepmother to make Toby feel glad she wasn’t his, she added, ‘Now, good night. Oh, and Toby –’

‘Yes?’ He sounded a little hurt and Thea felt dreadful.

‘Don’t tell Ben about this conversation. I really don’t think he’d like it.’

He didn’t like it. And it hadn’t helped that most of it had been recorded on the answering machine. He was furious when he rang Thea the following night. ‘What do you mean by encouraging Toby in this nonsense about a stepmother?’

‘Excuse me! I didn’t encourage him. I made it very clear that although we’d had a very nice evening together, it wouldn’t be like that all time.’

‘Did it occur to you that you shouldn’t have discussed it with him at all?’

‘Yes–no –’ Thea exhaled sharply. ‘What was I to do? Toby wanted a chat. I didn’t know what he wanted to chat about and when I did, I tried to stop him – or explain.’ Aware that he’d heard her conversation more recently than she had and that she’d forgotten the detail of what she and Toby had discussed, she floundered to a halt.

‘Well, you shouldn’t have let him carry on.’

Ben was really angry. Thea was tempted to tell him about the babysitter and the video, but if he’d listened to all the tape he’d know about her and she didn’t want her to get into more trouble. On the other hand she was damned if she’d apologise – she hadn’t initiated the call. ‘I did my best.’

‘And does your “best” include telling my son to deceive me?’

‘I never –’

‘Oh yes, you did! It’s on the tape quite clearly. “Don’t tell Ben about this, he wouldn’t like it."’

‘Well, I was right there, wasn’t I?’

She slammed the handset down. She had to be in the gallery early the following morning as they were coming to put the phone in. Then she indulged in a glass of wine, a few tears and a packet of chocolate biscuits. It didn’t help at all.

While Thea had been waiting for the telephone man, she made the decision to rip up the carpet in the room downstairs, although originally she’d decided not to. By now the puppies’ presence had begun to be apparent, even when they weren’t there, and she didn’t feel the odour of puppy wee was quite what an up-and-coming young gallery needed.